


Two Times When Wilbur Tried To Kill A Beast And Failed (And The One Time He Didn't His Dad Adopted It)

by King_Krow



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: (The most violence you get is when Will tried to chop Techno's head off but isn't that bad), (There are mentions of scars on Techno), (just wanted to mention just in case), Backstory, DreamSMP - Freeform, Family Dynamics, Found Family, Gen, One Shot, Phil as the wise and experienced father figure, Wilbur being a slightly paranoid eleven year old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27754939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/King_Krow/pseuds/King_Krow
Summary: //in which Philza and young Wilbur encounter a strange pigmen like beast and while Wilbur is sceptical about it, Philza both intrigued and filled with dad energy thinks of taking it in.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 93





	Two Times When Wilbur Tried To Kill A Beast And Failed (And The One Time He Didn't His Dad Adopted It)

"Stop." 

At his words Wilbur stilled immediately. Shaky uncertain hands clumsily reached for the sword at his side. He knew he was probably making noise with how shittily he was tugging at his belt but Phil didn't comment on it. 

His own sword, shining blue and glinting faint purple was in his own hand immediately. (Wilbur reddened with shame at how quietly and easily he had done it; he blamed his noise on the fact that the belt and sword was a hand-me-down. The iron blade was rusted and the belt sometimes made his tools fall out. He never complained about it though. He was asking a lot of Phil to allow an eleven year old a weapon in the first place) The way his body lowered and eyes narrowed slightly as he took in his surroundings was mesmerising to Wilbur. Phil's hand reached in front of Will, making sure he was nearby was top priority for him. 

The sounds of the forest always molded together for Wilbur. He couldn't tell the rustle of trees from the snap of a twig as well as Phil can. He couldn't differentiate a bat's face with a zombie's in the late hours of the night in their shoddily lit camp. But Phil could. (His father always assured him that he would get better with age) 

It made sense, Wilbur thought as Phil quietly made steps forward towards where he heard the sound. He's a lot more experienced then Wilbur could ever be. He had to be good at this. They wouldn't survive a week or winter or he wasn't. 

There was a loud snap, one even Wilbur could tell wasn't normal, followed by loud footsteps bolting in another direction. Phil's head snapped in that direction and Wilbur could make out the rapid rush of a shadow hopping into a bush nearby. 

The bush itself quaked and shook like it was caught in a storm, Phil lowered his sword and looked at it suspiciously. "Stay," he told Wilbur and Will looked up at Phil, confusion dancing in his features as the man kept his gaze trained on the bush. 

With a firm grasp on his sword still, Phil made slow precise movements towards the bush. 

When he was five feet away the shape jumped out and charged at Phil. Wilbur yelled out in surprise and Phil narrowly dodged the charging figure who stumbled on its feet when it didn't hit its target. 

Wilbur's eyes widened as he took in the beast in front of him. 

Tinted pink skin accompanied with sharper tusks stood out to him the most. The creature was humanoid but weirdly scrawny and its face littered with scars over its nose and cheeks. It was wearing a hospital gown and it's arms were just marred with even more scars. It was like a connect the dots gone wrong. 

Then there was the ears; floppy and pig-like in nature. The hair caught him off guard as well; an unnatural pastel pink mess that fell to its shoulders. 

Its eyes were the thing that caught Wilbur off guard the most. They were the most normal thing about this brute. Brown, light brown. They almost looked human. 

They stared up at Wilbur and he could tell the emotion he was feeling immediately. Fear. 

In seeing that, Wilbur rose his sword up with shaky hands. He knew what fear could do to an animal. 

Instead, the thing stumbled back and went running in the other direction, leaving the two staring after it. 

"What a peculiar thing..." Wilbur found himself mumbling, eyes narrowed. He's never seen anything quite like it before. 

There was the sudden sound of page turning and Wilbur looked over at Phil who had rummaged in his satchel for a book. 

"What do you think?" Wilbur asked and Phil hummed. "What do you think of it? The pink creature thing?" Wilbur pressed and narrowed his eyes at Phil walking over and trying to catch sight of what he was looking at in his book. 

Will didn't get the chance since Phil closed the book and looked off in the direction the beast ran, a thoughtful glint in his eye. "Poor kid looked hungry." 

* * *

  
The next time they encountered the beast wasn't very long after. In fact it had barely been a day. Phil was lighting up an area for them to settle in for the night. 

Will took the responsibility of getting wood for the campfire for them to cook their food over. The sun was just dipping into the horizon, bathing the trees and the grass in this honey gold lighting. 

Wilbur, hugging wood to his chest in one hand and dragging an axe with the other took a moment to glance at the sunset. 

It was just nearing dark enough for mobs to begin to move in without getting hurt but bright enough so Wilbur would be able to see them. It was an awkward middle where he wasn't quite sure if he would but safe enough but he would risk it if he meant he would get to watch the sunset like this. 

This viewing was cut off rather abruptly by munching. It was a loud, borderline desperate sound, as if more concerned with getting food than being caught. Which it most certainly was. 

Wilbur, only a few yards away from camp (just far enough where he can get wood but too far that Phil couldn't see him) caught sight of the beast from this morning in their camp on its hands and knees. It was practically wolfing down on the carrots and raw potatoes they had been planning to cook. 

Wilbur dropped the wood and made quick movements with the axe, intending on cutting down the beast this time. 

"Will!" Both boys jumped, Will dropping the axe and the beast dropping the carrot from its mouth. With its skitterish history, Wilbur expected it to run away when Phil approached it. With Phil's chaotic history, Wilbur expected him to cut it down himself. 

Both didn't do either. 

Phil held his hand out at the fallen carrot on the floor. "Go on, you can take it," Phil said in a surprisingly gentle voice, one Wilbur would expect he'd use on him when he's teaching him to use a sword, not on a beast who was stealing their dinner. 

The beast tilted its head slightly at the motion. 

"Does it even understand?" Wilbur mumbled, sceptical. Phil gave him a look and then looked back at the creature before him. 

"Go on," he encouraged again and it lowered itself and picked up the single carrot and looked back at Phil as if asking for approval. Phil just smiled gently as if encouraging a child. 

The beast reached towards its chest, feeling around a shape beneath their gown before tugging at a chain with a dog tag and setting it down. Without another word it scurried off, skating past Wilbur who was looking at his father and then back at the fading shape of the beast. 

"Wh-What was that? That was our food!" Wilbur sputtered, confused. 

"Ehhh, we have more," Phil assured him ruffling his hair. "Had a feeling that kid was hungry." 

"Kid? He's not even human is he?" Wilbur scoffed and Phil frowned at him. 

" 'see how small he was?" Phil said. "Looks to be about your age if I estimate it." 

"He's not human," Wilbur emphasised and Phil shook his head picking up more carrots and potatoes from his satchel. 

"Hardly see the problem," Phil said and glanced at Wilbur over his shoulder. "Bring some wood, would ya?" 

Wilbur pouted and stomped off towards where he had left the wood and brought it back. He set up the campfire in silence. 

"Need me to help you light it?" Phil asked. 

"I got it," Wilbur said quickly, taking the flint and scraping it against the steel. He was getting better at this, he noticed when the campfire lit up after to flicks. 

In the late nights when he couldn't sleep he would practice using it and felt an odd comfort in watching a lump of wood smolder away. He had to be careful though, he couldn't imagine Phil's reaction if he set fire to their camp by accident. 

Wilbur decided to set the potatoes by the fire, letting them cook as he nibbled on a carrot. 

He glanced over at Phil who was making notes in his book, the tag laid on his thigh. "You upset with me, Will?" Phil asked and Wilbur looked away quickly staring at the flames instead. 

"No," he said stubbornly and he heard the sound of Phil's quill stop. He heard him shuffle slightly in place. 

"Hey, bud," Phil pressed. "Look at this for a moment." 

He heard pages turn and his head snapped behind him as he was given a view of a page in Phil's book. He rarely got to see what was inside. Not because his father didn't trust him, rather that he was using it so much that he rarely thought of letting Wilbur see and Wilbur was too embarrassed to ask. 

So when he was given the chance of looking instead he threw away any reservations of anger and peered in. 

Phil's handwriting dotted the page in quick concise notes alongside drawings. What Wilbur saw on this page was a creature very similar to the one they had just seen. "Piglin?" Wilbur read out loud and Phil nodded, allowing him to read further 

The only difference being the diagram showing notes of rotting flesh. Next to it was a less zombified version of the piglin. Maybe it was because it was a drawing, but it still didn't give off the same vibe this creature did. Wilbur realised what it was. The eyes. A piglin's eyes were fully white out, while the one before had actual irises. 

"You wanna know something I learned when I met these piglin, Will?" Phil said, using a tone that sounded like he was about to tell a story. Wilbur leaned against him and Phil held the book in front of them for him to see better. He pointed at the piglin for emphasis. "Piglin only spawn in the nether realm. They rarely ever come into the overworld but when they do--" His finger trailed to the zombified version. "--they turn into these. They can't last long in the overworld for some reason." 

"Then how does it--" 

"He," Phil corrected sternly. "Or they, we can't be sure." 

"Then how do they," Wilbur emphasised. "Survive here just fine then?" 

"Not quite sure," Phil admitted. "Their behaviour's quite weird as well. Piglin are particular about attire as well, they only trust people who wear gold otherwise they attack 'em. This one however only attacked us cause they were scared probably and ran away when they could. They're a lot more human than normal piglin." 

"What do you reckon we do about it then?" Wilbur asked. Phil took awhile to answer, closing his book. 

"A piglin with his behaviour would be good to study," Phil admitted but he waited awhile and his gaze softened. "He's young and the condition's he's in worries me. Looking at him reminds me a bit of you." He gave Wilbur a gentle rub against his arm. "He doesn't seem dangerous either so I don't see why not." 

"You don't see why not what?" Wilbur asked. 

"Don't see why we can't take him in," Phil grinned and Wilbur met his expression with a wide eye stare. 

"Are you-Are you sure?" Wilbur's voice went a bit high, just the barest hint of concern. 

"Don't you worry about it, he won't go and hurt ya," Phil assured him with a smile but then his expression turned serious for a second. "On the topic pf it, I don't want ya going about and swinging ya axe at things like that again. You don't hurt something unless it hurts you or you gotta survive, ya hear me?" 

"Yes, dad.." Wilbur's voice trailed off, deciding not to make a snide remark on Phil's occasional chaotic streak. Phil gave him a pat on the shoulder. 

"Come on, lighten up now," Phil told him. "Aren't kids your age supposed to be excited about getting another sibling?" 

The idea didn't disgust Wilbur. 

"Come on, let's eat," Phil said and Wilbur matched his smile as Phil picked up the now baked potatoes. 

"Hey what was on the tags by the way?" Wilbur asked, pulling apart at the baked potato ignoring how it burnt his hands. "Did it have a name?" 

Phil held it out to him and Wilbur squinted his eyes at the name. 

* * *

  
The next morning, the pair didn't put away camp fully and instead went on a hunt. 

They set up traps of baked potatoes and carrots about, hiding in bushes and trees as they waited. (Actually, calling this a trap would be an exaggeration. It really was just a plate of potatoes in the middle of a clearing while the two waiting) 

Their prey came quick, the chorus of their rumbling stomach alerting the pair that their pair had gotten close. 

The pig boy walked into the clearing, nose twitching as he walked over to the potatoes laid there. He sat down and chowed down on the food in front of him. 

"Technoblade." 

The pig boy stopped eating. His ear twitched and looked over behind him. For the first time, when he heard that name, his name, the fear didn't worsen when he saw who called him. He didn't see sinister faces of tall men in lab coats or dark-faced devils with halos. 

Instead he saw a man with a face free of judgment or malice. Eyes glinting and watching him with childlike intrigue and familial fondness that instead he couldn't help but feel calm. 

"Hallooo."


End file.
